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“Albus, do you really think it safe to leave him here? I’ve watched them all day, they’re the worst sort of muggles imaginable. They really are–”
“ –The only family he has left.”
The baby is placed on the doorstep.
Albus and Hagrid leave.
Minerva Mcgonagall does not.
Instead, Minerva returns to her cat form and resumes her silent vigil over the Dursley home. Albus is of course correct about the dangers that yet remain. There are still many unknown Death Eaters who remain at large that could easily track Harry Potter down if he were left with a wizard family known to be members of the light.
Thankfully few if any of them know how to navigate a muggle phone book.
Or a muggle map.
And even knowing that Lily Potter used to be Lily Evans, without knowledge of muggles and their world and how to access their records, it would be impossible to determine that her muggle sister Petunia Evans is now known as Petunia Dursley.
There are spells and potions of course that could potentially track locations. But none of them will work without a focus from the person you seek and Harry Potter does not possess nearly enough hair yet for anyone to have managed to squirrel some away for a possible Locus spell.
And so, Minerva settles in on the garden wall and waits.
Albus had also mentioned that it would be better for Harry to grow up without the spotlight that would undoubtedly follow him everywhere in the wizarding world and despite herself Minerva is inclined to agree. It would take strength a small child simply would not possess to hear his name sung in the streets and not grow into arrogance. Not to mention how many wizards are already speaking about the tragedy that befell the Potters as if it were a good thing– as if the deaths of two innocent young parents were something to be celebrated merely because it was immediately followed by the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Minerva hisses angrily at the very thought.
The Order never would have wished this on the Potters, it would have been deemed a price too steep to pay! And yet here they are in the aftermath and it is all Minerva can do to ensure that Harry Potter at least will be safe.
Albus believes the best place for that is with the Dursleys.
Minerva herself isn’t so sure.
So here she remains, waiting and watching with all the patience and focus she possesses.
For if it turns out that Albus is wrong and Minerva was right about exactly what kind of muggles these people are…
Minerva arches her feline body, claws glinting in the moonlight as she shifts in place on the wall.
Well then, Minerva will simply have to find her own way of ensuring that Harry Potter grows up with the humility and safety he deserves.
A way to raise him well without anyone knowing where he is– not even Albus Dumbledore.
And she knows just the place to do it.
~ ~ ~ Nine Years Later ~ ~ ~
On their first night at Hogwarts, Fred and George Weasley find a map in a hidden alcove of the Gryffindor common room.
Hogwarts had been all at once more space than they’d ever had before and they hadn’t been able to sleep until they’d explored every inch of it they possibly could.
This determined exploration of every nook and cranny available to them is made all the better once they manage to unlock the map’s secrets.
Having solemnly sworn that they are up to no good, Fred and George quickly make good on that promise, utilizing the secret passages on the map for all sorts of pranks and trickery.
Time passes in a blur of classes and increasingly ambitious shenanigans.
Their head of house, Professor Mcgonagall, gives them many a lecture as the months go by and it’s her tone of almost parental disappointment that has them agreeing to never get caught again.
(Though Fred is sure he catches her hiding a smile behind her goblet after the ‘pinked potion incident’ where he and George had “accidentally” added some essence of dragonfruit to their Cloud of Boosted Calm potion, resulting in a puff of pink smoke exploding out of their cauldron to stain the faces of everyone present in the dungeon at the time– Professor Snape and his dour little Slytherins included.)
And then, one magical day in December, everything changes.
It’s the first day of the Christmas Holidays– a full two weeks of no classes where the majority of the student body has chosen to go home– and Fred and George are reveling in the newfound freedom and privacy.
With the Marauders’ Map in hand they set out to finally explore the last of the secret passages and commit all their ins and outs to memory before the return of such evil constraints like classes and curfews.
Unlike normal places, Hogwarts is ever shifting, meaning if the boys don’t want to have to rely on the map every time they need a quick escape they must instead memorize the entrances of the passages– not by current location– but by any notable paintings or statues nearby that mark them.
And that’s how the two find themselves in a broad stone corridor in the very bowels of Hogwarts, facing a veritable museum’s worth of food-based paintings along the walls.
“This isn’t the kitchen…” Fred muses, hand on his chin in thought.
“There must be another secret to it,” George agrees, already stepping forward to inspect an oil painting of the most realistic looking blueberry pie Fred’s ever seen. “You notice how none of these paintings are alive? It’s almost like somebody didn’t want any students to be able to ask questions…”
Fred blinks and then grins. He doesn’t call George the clever one for nothing.
“Good point. Live portraits are best when dealing with ‘wee little firsties’ who might forget the password and need a hint of encouragement…”
He pauses to wiggle his eyebrows at George to emphasize what he thinks of being referred to as innocent ‘wee little firsties’ and his brother barks an amused laugh in response.
“...but the entrance to the kitchens wouldn't need to be guarded by all that. There’s no rival houses trying to get in and whoever does the cooking is probably more than capable of fending off any intruders with possible ill intentions. The Kitchens’ neutral ground after all and probably has a more straightforward way to get in. So we just need to find the door.”
“I usually just call Lucket to let me in but I can show you the way in if you’d like to see.”
Fred and George whirl on the newcomer as one, wands raised at the ready.
The boy in front of them merely blinks slowly in response. He’s shorter than they are– even for a wee little firstie– and Fred is immediately positive he’s never seen him round Hogwarts before.
Green eyes sparkle with wonder behind the sturdy glasses frames fitted snugly on the boy’s nose. “You’re the Weasley Twins aren’t you? Aunt Minnie talks about you sometimes when she comes round for tea.”
“Aunt Minnie?” George echoes faintly, wand finally lowering as it’s made clear that this boy poses no threat. “Are you visiting someone for the holidays?”
The boy shakes his head and his black hair rustles with the motion– though Fred distantly notes that his front bangs serve to keep his forehead completely obscured even with that rush of movement. “Nope. I live here.”
“Here?” Fred can’t help but repeat, tucking his own wand back into his sleeve. “In the kitchens?”
“No silly,” the boy laughs, eyes continuing to sparkle with childlike joy. “At Hogwarts. I live on the seventh floor.”
“The seventh floor?” and now it’s George’s turn to question, as Fred mentally checks the map in his head for what’s even up there. “But there aren’t any rooms up there, right? It’s all alcoves and corridors and staircases leading to the other floors innit?”
The boy claps his hands in delight. “Nope! There’s also the Come and Go Room! Wanna come see?”
Fred shares a quick look with George.
Before they can decide whether or not to follow this strange child, the boy deflates of his previous enthusiasm all on his own.
“Oh but it’s a secret,” he says sadly. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone I’m here...” He looks up then and clenches a fist in determination. “But surely Aunt Minnie will understand. It’s the holidays and almost no one is even still at school. And I’m so bored staying in my room all day. You won’t tell anyone you saw me will you?”
He looks all at once so dejected and lonely that Fred can’t help himself.
He and his brother don’t even need to look at each other to respond in unison.
“You had us at ‘it’s a secret,’” they grin.
The boy beams and leads the way.
***
The boy tells them his name is Harry and true to his word he leads them through yet another secret passage that somehow transports them from the dungeons to the seventh floor in a single staircase.
Fred takes in the corridor as is at once unimpressed with it thus far. One side is a boring stretch of blank wall as far as he can see and on the opposite side is only an odd yet large tapestry.
Harry catches him looking and beams. “That’s Barnabas the Barmy!” he laughs, running up to it and pointing. “He’s trying to teach trolls to dance the ballet!”
Before Fred or George can think of a response to that though, Harry is already turning away to face the empty wall instead.
“Presenting the Come and Go Room! It’s a magical room here at Hogwarts that can only be discovered by someone in need!” He turns to them with a grin. “Crimminey, Higgly and Aunt Minnie used to have to open it for me if I ever got out but I’m old enough to read now so I can open it all by myself,” he says proudly, opening a well worn piece of paper with a flourish.
Fred just manages to catch sight of the words ‘I need a place where I can live, a place where no one can find me, a place that will keep me safe. I need a place that will only allow the house elves entrusted with taking care of me and Professor Minerva to’ before Harry droops again, staring down at the parchment in disappointment.
“Oh… I don't think the room will let you in…”
George must have read quite a bit faster than Fred because while Fred is still struggling to grasp what Harry could possibly mean by that, George is already holding out the self inking quill they’d filched from the Slytherin Prefect last week to Harry. “What if you added our names to the people allowed inside? Would that work?”
Harry brightens immediately and grabs for the quill. “Brilliant!” And then he lays down on the floor to cheerily add their names in as Fred and George eye each other once more.
No words are needed as they process what little they've learned so far.
‘I need a place where I can live, a place where no one can find me, a place that will keep me safe.’ the parchment had said. And yet here Harry is, so starved for friendship that he’s adding names to the list of people allowed inside merely because they’ve asked him to. That’s a dangerous level of trust and naivety from a child so clearly in need of protection and secrecy.
George gives a solemn nod at the same moment Fred does.
If Harry doesn’t quite know how to keep himself safe, they’ll just have to do it for him.
“Done!” Harry crows, springing back to his feet. “Now I just need to walk past this spot three times while reading what I need and the door will appear!”
So saying he proceeds to do just that.
And true to his word after the third pass, a door does in fact appear.
Harry welcomes them inside with a childlike excitement that is incredibly endearing. “And this is my bed where I sleep. Rhombus keeps the rooms clean but I help sometimes because it doesn’t do for one to grow up lazy instead of self sufficient. And here is my closet! Argyle takes my laundry for washing and mending but only if I place them in the hamper for him. If I leave it on the floor or under my bed then he won’t take them because responsibility builds good character and anyway I’m nine now so I’m old enough to be in charge of things like that. Lucket brings me food and sometimes she even sneaks me into the kitchens too if Argyle has washed my play uniform. It doesn’t have any house colors yet because I haven’t been sorted but it’s good enough to fool the house elves that don’t know about me. If Crimminey is around then I get to practice cooking which will be very helpful experience once I start taking potions class, but if he’s busy then I just watch and try to learn things that way. And Higgly–” he cuts off his ramble with a sudden sound of excitement. “Do you like riding brooms???”
Fred blinks at the sudden question. “We’re first years. We aren’t allowed to have brooms.”
“No, I know that!” Harry laughs, waving a hand as if Fred is being silly. “But do you know how? Do you like it?”
“More than anything,” George breathes and Fred doesn’t need to be able to read his twins mind to know that he’s thinking of their riding classes and how little time they get to actually feel that freeing rush of flight before they need to return once more to the ground.
“Yay!” Harry crows and before they can say anything else he’s pulling open a drawer in his nightstand and yanking out a piece of parchment from inside. “Higgly!”
There’s a crack as a house elf appears in the room and the small little creature stares at Fred and George with wide shiny eyes. “Master Harry you–”
“Can we go flying today Higgly? Can we can we can we?”
The house elf continues to stare at the twins in what Fred thinks might be horror and fear.
“I’m Fred,” he finds himself saying to her without thinking. “Fred Weasley.”
“And I’m George.”
“Yes they’re my new friends and I want to take them flying. They promised they wouldn’t tell anyone.”
Fred can’t help but think about how they very much did not promise Harry anything and by the look on George’s face his twin is thinking the same but Harry is still going in that oblivious naivety he seems to possess.
“Please Higgly! I promised I’d only fly if you were around to supervise and it’s been ages since last time.”
“Master Harry needs being more cautious,” the house elf finally says, but it’s in that defeated tone that Fred recognizes from his own mother when she’s only half heartedly protesting after already deciding to give in.
“Yay! Thanks Higgly!”
Harry rushes them from the room and back out into the seventh floor corridor. He paces back and forth while staring at the new parchment in his hand– a detailed list of qualifications for a place to practice flying safely.
Higgly eyes them both shrewdly while they wait for the new door to appear and honestly Fred can’t even blame her.
Harry is just way too trusting.
And then the new door is open and it’s all Fred can do but stare inside in awed wonder.
A massive indoor room with no clear end in sight.
Walls and ceiling that seem incredibly skylike while the floor below looks almost like grass.
There are quidditch hoops set up on the field and a rack full of brooms that range by skill level and speed.
Harry runs inside and as Fred moves to follow he can feel the way his shoes almost seem to sink into the spongey not-grass of the ground beneath them.
“Must be some kind of safety measure,” George murmurs as he falls into step beside Fred. “In case anyone falls.”
“Masters be not falling,” the house elf sniffs, pointing at herself with a jab of her thumb in clear offended indignation. “Higgly be doing the catching and Higgly be trusted to keep Master Harry from harm.” She shoots the fake grass a sharp look. “Enchanted floorses be cheating and for just in casees.”
“Ah.” Fred blinks. “And will Higgly be keeping Fred and George safe too or only Master Harry?”
Higgly stares him down with her impossibly wide eyes. “Masters Fred and George be honored guests,” she says, not seeming to mean a word of it. “...and Master Harry be sad if his guests be harmed in his play.”
“Works for me,” George nods, clearly on the same page as Fred about needing some kind of assurance of their safety. “Thank you Higgly.”
Higgly sniffs disdainfully. “Masters Weasley be getting on with the playing now. Master Harry be waiting.”
Fred doesn’t need to be told twice, immediately heading for the rack of brooms where Harry has already grabbed what is clearly his favorite.
“Aunt Minnie says my dad was a Gryffindor seeker for years! I hope I can join the quidditch team too someday and be just like him! She says Gryffindor hasn’t won a game in ages and she’s counting on me to be her secret weapon!”
“Oh that’s cool!” George grins. “We’re hoping to join the team too as beaters. We can’t yet since we’re still first years but maybe we’ll get to play together officially one day.”
Harry beams. “We should all practice together then!”
So they do exactly that.
The rest of the day passes them by in a wonderful rush of freedom and the artificial wind in their hair and they only stop once for a quick lunch brought to them by a surly house elf named Lucket.
By the end of the day Fred’s legs feel like jelly from not having used them in hours but as he and George struggle to walk straight they exchange a grin that says it all.
‘Worth it!’
“Come on!” Harry cheers, tugging them both from the room by their sleeves. “I know a shortcut to the Gryffindor Common Room!”
It’s all Fred can do not to fall over at the brisk pace down the corridor and he turns his head back almost unconsciously to watch as the door to the indoor flying field vanishes from view.
“Like someone’s wiped it away,” George murmurs, looking back at the now empty expanse of bare wall.
“A blank canvas once more,” Fred agrees.
“See look! This painting is on a hinge!” Harry declares, oblivious to their contemplative conversation. “And when I pull it aside it reveals… the longest slide in Hogwarts!”
Fred eyes the dark smoothness of the inclined tunnel with an appreciative air. “Any steep drops?”
“Two!” Harry cheers. “And it even loops right before the end so you don’t shoot out too fast.”
“Brilliant,” George breathes.
“I. I have to stay here now.” Harry sighs, foot kicking emptily at the air. “I don’t know how many people could be around so I’m not allowed to take the slide at this hour.”
“Most of the students went home,” Fred offers.
“I know. But the staff are still here and only Aunt Minnie and the house elves know about me.”
“And us!” George grins, wiggling his eyebrows in a clear attempt to cheer Harry up.
Harry laughs. “And you.”
There’s something here, Fred can’t help but think, a mystery that’s begging to be unraveled if only he’d stop and think over everything he’s seen and done today.
“Will you…” Harry starts, stops, clenches his fists and gathers his courage to start again. “Will you come visit?”
Fred puts the questions aside for now to reach out and ruffle Harry’s hair. “Course we will. You just keep our names on the list of requirements, yeah?”
Harry nods energetically at that– the motion disturbing Fred’s hand still in his hair (so much fluffier than Ron’s) – and Fred catches a brief glimpse of… something, on Harry’s forehead. Before he can puzzle out what it is or try and catch a better look, Harry is pulling away in a rush.
“I should go! Aunt Minnie will be by soon for tea and I don’t want her to know I was wandering the castle when it isn’t empty for summer break.”
Fred silently watches him go, already thinking about when they can keep the poor kid company again and how often they’ll be able to sneak away once term starts up again.
He turns to his brother to ask but George is staring open-mouthed down at the Marauder’s Map in his hands.
“George?”
“I was wanting to see if the Come and Go Room was on the map,” George says faintly.
Fred raises an eyebrow and leans in. “And is it?” he starts to ask before trailing off in open-mouthed shock of his own.
Because there on the map, pacing back and forth before the blank expanse of wall on the seventh floor, is a name they’ve both heard of but never seen before.
Harry Potter.
“Well,” Fred manages to squeak. “That explains a lot.”